Second Thoughts (35 page)

“I know you're all as eager as I am to get to that, but before we go, let's take a few minutes to be
sentimental.
All the studying we've done? That's no secret. But between all the learning, there's
more.
No one talks about it, and you may not realize, but you've been immersed in it the entire time you were here. Sure, up front, Northbrook's taught us what it takes to work hard and
learn.
We've got that. We could go pro at learning tomorrow. Straight from high school to the big leagues. But it took me six years to realize Northbrook was also doing one other thing.”

Her dramatic pause, her whole last section, raised eyebrows, brought murmurs, would probably still get me in trouble somehow, and all around made me want to strangle her…but I couldn't deny, it was all Amy.

“Teaching us how to
live,”
she concluded.

“How to find our own way to dinner on time or not eat at all. How to do our own laundry, or, you know, at least how to schedule a laundry service. How to live with another person who doesn't have to like you because you're not related, or because you're different.

“How service to school and community is as important as grades.

“How to make decisions and live with the consequences.

“Northbrook has taught us how to use not only the powers of our minds but, also, the powers of our hearts and our wills. How to be leaders
and
collaborators, to be strong and independent and smart. Northbrook gave us friends, and loves, and occasional rivals, plus the strength of character to deal with them all. And finally, Northbrook gave us
futures.

“Starting tomorrow, it's the future and it's going to be awesome. I'll see you all there.”

Amy waved to us as she stepped from the podium, a goodbye to high school or hello to the future it was hard to say which, while the entire crowd erupted in ovation.

I wouldn't have wanted to follow that speech, and probably anyone else would have seemed boring in comparison. Except for Daniel Astor. He hadn't told me, but I knew what he was going to say in his speech. Pretty much everyone in the audience knew, even if Amy hadn't hinted at it. The media and television crews lined up along the back of the crowd knew too.

I tried not to watch or care, not even to listen. This speech hadn't been intended for my ears anyway. I tried to imagine it with the heartfelt memorial to me that would have led it off, if I hadn't been unexpectedly sitting in the audience. But even I, who had knowledge and reason more than anyone to hate the man striding up to the podium through a chorus of cheers and shouts, couldn't help myself. Inevitably, I was drawn in by his charisma and the visage of my father.

“From one sentimental to another,” he began, and the whole crowd laughed, half because they were in on the joke and half because they weren't, “that was a hell of a speech…”

He had everyone rapt from the first words, and not for the first time, I wondered why he needed to resort to manipulations. And
murder.
People would follow him anywhere just to see him smile and hear his smooth voice tell them what to do. Was it simply in the blood? Had my father inherited the same temptations? Had
I?
The ease and lack of guilt with which I'd changed Ms. Kim's memory suggested I had. Maybe I was more the man at the podium's heir than I wanted to admit.

Eventually, as the words clicked into place in my head, I realized his speech
was
for me. It was a reminder of what, in his eyes, I was failing to do, and also, what I'd
promised
to do. “As Miss Moretti so aptly described, for the last years here you've been practicing
living.
The next step, the one Northbrook has prepared you for, is living
up to your potential.
There's an enormous, possibly unfair amount of potential sitting before me, and the hope of everyone here is to see it fully realized. Recognize your potential, friends, and embrace it. You are here, so you are ready.

“You are also, as difficult as it may be, ready to leave Northbrook. Having been a student myself, I know how special your time at the Academy has been, how important are the relationships you've cultivated and the growth you've shown toward the men and women you find yourselves becoming. Some of those relationships will stay with you for a lifetime, others, though no less important, will likely end today. The important thing to remember is you're not leaving behind; you're
moving on.
It's time to fulfill your potential, or better yet, your
promise.
Your promising futures are just steps away. Take those steps. Don't be afraid.

“In fact, we'll take them together. Today is the day both you and I have looked forward to and from which there's no looking back.”

It was then that he paused, and as if choreographed, planned down to the second and paid for, the sun broke through the clouds for the first time all day. It lit his hair to glowing gold and you'd have thought the universe was in tune with him, blessing his announcement. He
glanced up at the new light and smiled unrestrainedly, delighted by the unexpected witness to his final words.

“So, friends, the answer is yes, the rumors are true—I am proud today to officially announce my candidacy for President of the United States, and even more proud to do it here, at my alma mater, in front of my
family,
and surrounded by our country's best and brightest future leaders. Thank you Northbrook, for your support, for the brilliant array of potential you've readied for the world, including the young men and women before me now, and for making me the man ready to lead our country into its brilliant future.

“The path is not promised to be easy, but join me, graduates, in finding the way.”

If I thought Amy's ovation was loud, Senator Astor's was deafening, fueled by the shouts and questions from the media, all of which were met with a curt explanation that a full press conference would follow the ceremony. Then and only then would he speak to anyone but the graduates and their families. With that, one by one, we were called to the stage to shake hands with the future President.

It took a long time for my turn. Long enough for me to practice my yoga breathing and blank my mind. Outward me was ready to climb the steps, smile, and receive my diploma. I watched all my friends go first, and my not-friends too. Alexis crossed the stage like it was a catwalk, or her own personal red carpet, rolled out for her future. Her poise never faltered, and the crowd even cheered when Senator Astor kissed her on the cheek.

When my time finally came, the cheers from my family and Carter were as loud as those for students with far larger contingents of supporters. They were almost loud enough to drown out my thoughts and the comments from the senator and the headmaster.

“Congratulations, Miss Young,” Dr. Stewart said, handing me my little black folder and holding it for a moment before sending me on.
“That was an interesting speech by Miss Moretti, didn't you think?” Sure I was blushing, I agreed. Clearly the headmaster knew I'd told at least some of our secret when I shouldn't have. “I've always wished she was one of us, you know. I was,” she continued, “sorry to hear your decision as well. I'd hoped you'd join us.”

I looked her in the eye when I replied. “It's the best choice for me. But I
am
sorry to disappoint you, headmaster. You know I mean it.”

“Yes I do, Elaine.” Her fingers released the diploma and I was free. “And I still think you'll be great.”

Everyone had exchanged a few words with Dr. Stewart. Our conversation wasn't unusual, since there weren't that many of us and it was a close community. I was the only person who hugged her though.

“Thank you. For everything.” She was so slim, my arms might have fit around her twice, but she was less stiff than I expected and she didn't rebuff me immediately.

She even patted my back, once, with a firm hand, “All right. Move along, Elaine. And you're welcome.”

Past her, waiting with a smile, was Daniel Astor. I'd purposefully not been looking at him, but I had no choice except to stop. To take his extended hand and turn to the camera, baring my own teeth in an approximation of the expression on the senator's face. For one second, just one, I thought about how my bare fingers were touching his skin.

The flash dazzled after the mostly gray afternoon and I was still clearing my vision when Dan said, “No hug for your uncle?”

“No,” I said through my teeth. I had to keep up the image of the smile. He put his arm around my shoulder anyway, and I couldn't stop him, not with everyone watching. I was surprised my skin didn't burn through my gown where the hand of the devil touched me.

He turned us slightly so we were facing the crowd. “You can still change your mind, you know. Come work for me. It'll be so simple,
Lainey.” In the stands, he picked out Carter, my family next to him, and waved. They cheered again, along with more people around them. “You can have everything you want.”

“It would all be a lie.”

Dan glanced down at me. “You think how my nephew feels about you is a lie?”

I shook my head and though tears threatened, I didn't let them fall. “No,” I repeated. “But the rest of my life would be.”

“Then I'm sorry again.” The next graduate was actually waiting now, forced to confer with Dr. Stewart while Dan and I spoke for what I hoped was the last time. “For both of you.”

“I
hate
you,” I hissed, still fake-smiling. “Stay away from my family.” I finally looked him in the eye.

His smile never faltered. “Congratulations, Miss Young,” he said, louder, a cue to the next in line that we were finishing up. “We'll miss you.”

“C
ONGRATULATIONS
!” C
ARTER ENVELOPED
me as soon as the graduates and their families all met on the field, swinging me in a circle so my white robe billowed out behind us. As he set me down, he kissed me, for what he didn't know would be the last time. I lingered there, just for a moment, before turning away.

“My grandparents are watching,” I murmured and he grinned a little wickedly.

“Then you shouldn't have kissed me back.”

My aunt's turn was next. She couldn't pick me up, so she threw her arms around me and dragged us in a circle, imitating what Carter had just done. “I'm so proud of you, Lainey! So proud.” She'd say it about a thousand times more throughout the night.

I hugged everyone, and I mean
everyone.
My family first, of course, but then the field became an impromptu festival of love, covered with
shouting, laughing, and some crying. I found myself dragged from group to group, taking pictures, meeting people's families, and just generally being together, as seniors, for one last time. For a few minutes, I even had fun. I
would
miss Northbrook, for so many reasons. More than maybe anyone, I was sorry to say goodbye.

Later, after dinner while we finished coffees and they cleared away the remains of the graduation cake Melinda had arranged, Carter said, “I wish my uncle was here.” It was a private comment, not meant for the whole table, since his Uncle Jeff
was
there, down at the end, talking to my Uncle Tommy. We were at the same restaurant we'd dined with Senator Astor, forever ago at the beginning of the year, when I'd thought everything was different.

Next to me, Aunt Tessa chuckled. “I think he's a little busy tonight. Even for this.”

“What'd he say to you, on stage? You looked…” Carter trailed off, and I wondered what I
had
looked like.

“He said he wished I'd chosen Baltimore.” Which is when, surrounded by my family and the boy whose heart I was about to break, I burst into tears. Conversation ceased and the sound of easy chatter was replaced by my weeping. We weren't alone in the restaurant, either. Other families and friends looked on as I, finally, broke down.

“Oh, honey.” My aunt put her arm around my waist and led me from the table. “I think it's probably time to go.” Carter, standing and looking bewildered, clearly wanted to follow, and Amy too—from the Morettis' and Sullivans' large table near ours, I caught a glimpse of her watching with concern—but Aunt Tessa waved them away. Thank God for her mother's intuition or whatever it was.

Outside, settled in the comfort and quiet of her rental car, my aunt said, “I bet everyone's inside fighting over who's going to pay the check.”

Through my sniffles, I gave a little smile. “That's fine, because I already did it.”

“What! You did not, young lady.
I
paid it.”

We locked eyes and I shook my head. My smile grew to full size as I told her, “You only
thought
you did because I told them to let you. I arranged everything last week.”

“Elaine Rachel! You sneaky brat!” Her own smile gleamed in the growing darkness. The clouds that had started to give way during the ceremony had grown even thinner, showing patches of deepening blue sky and a hint of stars. “Abuelo will be disappointed. And Martin. They've been looking forward to this argument for years.”

“I bet they never thought I'd be graduating from a place like this.”

“No…but you loved it here, huh?” I nodded, though the question was surely rhetorical. “Not many eighteen year old graduates out there arranging to pay for their own dinners.”

“I think I'm not like many graduates.” I turned to look out the window, counting the cars of people I knew.

Aunt Tessa reached over to take my hand. “No, sweetheart. You're definitely not.” After a quiet pause, she said, “Do
you
wish you'd made a different choice?”

I took a deep breath and held it before I answered. Did I? What a difficult question. My heart was screaming,
yes, you idiot!
But my heart wasn't all of me. A different choice would have meant sacrificing a piece of my
soul.
So, “No, I don't. Do you?”